Doomed to Repeat
by CodyNaomiSwire
Summary: Having successfully created GLaDOS, the engineers of Aperture Science are now desperate to get her under control. Will Molly - their latest core creation - finally be the one who has what it takes to tame the great behemoth of a computer system and prevent a ruined future? Or will the denizens of Aperture be doomed to repeat their past mistakes?
1. Chapter 1

_"__This…This is all a serious error!"_ the new personality core thought to itself the moment it was turned on, optic contracting and blinking rapidly in the harsh bright light of the chamber it found itself in. It had no idea who it was, what it was, or where it was. _"__I don't…I can't…I can't….the history! It's not…IT'S NOT THERE!"_

Then came its voice. It didn't speak, but the little distressed gasps and whimpers it gave off were enough to tell that its vocal processor was meant to sound feminine. As its audio receptors kicked into gear, and its optic adjusted to the lighting, the core heard the murmurs of about half a dozen people around it, and as they came into focus its saw that they were all wearing white lab coats, with all their ID tags clipped neatly to the left breast pocket. That is, all of them except for one fellow who had untidy jet black hair, whose tag was clipped at an awkward angle to the right.

"Everyone be quiet," commanded one of the men harshly. As his colleagues fell silent, he strode forward so that he was looking directly into the quivering optic of the newly created core, the maroon light of it shrinking down to a white pinprick.

"Hello HC Core. Can you understand me?" he asked in a tone that perhaps he intended to sound pleasant, but came off sounding rather degrading; drawing out each syllable as if the core's processor could only keep up with a film being played in slow motion.

"Y-yes," the core stuttered in response. "Wha…what's going on? I can't- I don't…I don't know-"

"Easy there HC Core," the man replied, no longer talking in slow motion, but much of the former pleasantness also leaving along with it. The core could tell immediately he wasn't one for patience. "What's happening to you is normal. It's going to take a few moments for your hard drive to get fully up and running. Otherwise, how are you feeling?"

The core could tell that he wasn't asking out of concern for her personally…but then why would he? She was merely a robot after all.

_"__Oh wait!"_ she thought to herself – for now she couldn't help but identify herself to that gender – as the interconnecting web of protocols and various other complicated bits of programming threaded themselves to the forefront of her thinking. _"__Yes…yes, that's what I am isn't it? A robot. And these fellows…"_

She glanced at the nametag on the man's lab coat and replied with a surprising sudden tone of confidence and professionalism, and her optic enlarging to a neutral size, "I'm doing well Dr. Wells."

Immediately after she replied, a few of the scientists – for now the core knew them to be scientists – took a sudden step back, eyes wide, and began jotting notes down on their clipboards. The core couldn't imagine why on earth they would react like that. She couldn't think of anything particularly profound about her statement. Unless they were simply surprised that she could read.

_"__No…"_ the core thought to itself, optic narrowing ever so slightly. _"__There's definitely more to this."_

The scientist now identified as Dr. Wells didn't seem as startled as everyone else present, but the core could see his two optical channels – _no wait, those are called 'eyes'_ – his eyes narrow slightly as if mirroring her and her thoughts.

_"__Well, it's nice to know we're at least alike in one way,"_ the core thought, slightly amused. _"__We're both suspicious of each other."_

"HC Core," Dr. Wells began again, "Do you know what your function is?"

"Umm…" The core looked away and slightly downward, optical plates narrowing even further. She quickly skimmed through the files that she was now able to access, and came across one labeled "History". _"__Oh, well, this looks promising,"_ she thought with curiosity. _"__In fact…wasn't I looking for something like this just a sec-"_

As she began to access the files labeled "History", such a vast expanse of files opened up before her that in the next instant she froze up in shock. Her optic had snapped wide open, and her gyroscope, optical plates, and any other moving part of her small round robot body went into complete lockup. Things became a blur as glimpses of what was stored in that humungous History file flitted through to the forefront of her consciousness. Pictures, documents, audio recordings, and even videos of all sorts came slamming through the channel opened up. She was hardly able to take any of it in or keep any of it straight as her processor went into overdrive, and things were occasionally interrupted by what looked like the blurred images of scientists running about the room like mad, and also sounds like mad scrambling and-

"Quick! Hit the swittttchchzzzz-"

_"__In 1776, Thomas Jefferssschchchhtttt"_

"It's too much! Get thchccczzz-"

_"__-thus the Battle of Hastingshhhhtzzzzch"_

"What the hhhccchhhtttzzz"

_"__-was when the printing press wasssctttthhzz"_

"Just shut it dowttzzhhcchhzz"

_"__-Aperture Science, formerly known as Aperture Fixtures, was founded in 1943 by Cave Johnsssscccthhewww"_

"DO IT NOW, DAMMIT!"

_"__HELP!"_

_Wait, what?_

Although the world seemed to be in chaos around her, the core managed to pick out that cry for help above everything else that was going on. With great effort, the core struggled to locate and delve further into that particular file.

_"__Help me please! I wanna go home I wanna go home I wanna go home I wanna-"_

_Wait…who?-_

But before the core could hear anymore of what was in the file, there was a sharp, ringing "CLICK!" And then the world went completely black.


	2. Chapter 2

[recharge complete]  
[rebooting…]  
[HC Core reactivated in 3…2…1]

Although the HC Core had no lungs of her own, she somehow felt that a long, deep gasp sound was required as they switched her back on. She kept her optic shut for a couple moments as she took several more simulated deep breathes. As she slowly blinked her optical plates open, she could feel a throbbing sort of pain at the center of her, the core equivalent to a headache. Or, more specifically, in the case of a robot that was pretty much nothing except a head, it was like having a whole body ache.

As she swiveled her sore optic around in its socket, she saw that only three of the scientists from before were still in the chamber, one of them of course being Dr. Wells. The HC Core wasn't quite sure why, but she found herself not liking him much at all, and knew for certain that she didn't trust him.

"Well, HC Core?" he asked in a firm tone. "How do you feel?"

The HC Core narrowed her optical plates and replied, "Well, that file – or I should say files – you put into me nearly killed me as I tried to access them. How do you think I feel?"

The other two scientists behind Wells glanced around awkwardly. Obviously they never would have said something like that to such a high-ranking scientist of Aperture Laboratories.

"Don't get mouthy with me Core!" Wells snapped, causing the HC Core to flinch a bit, and also think of how odd the statement was considering that she had no mouth. "In case you hadn't noticed, I created you!"

"Oh, did you?" the HC Core asked with still a bit of anger in her voice, but also realizing that perhaps it wouldn't be good to make enemies right off the bat. Although she had her suspicious feelings about Dr. Wells, perhaps she ought to take a step back and just get to know him and his background a bit better before rushing to a judgment. She softened her tone a bit. "Sorry, just thought I would use a bit of sarcasm, and having so much information overload your system would naturally put you out of sorts, don't you think?"

"Yes, I suppose you're right," Wells replied back as the two scientists standing behind him began jotting down more notes on their clipboards. "But we fixed that now. You shouldn't have a problem with any information overloading your system from this point onward."

"Ok," the HC Core replied, although still not convinced that everything was going to be one hundred percent fine.

"Right then," Wells continued. "Back to the question before. Do you know what your function is HC Core?"

"Well, you made me right? Why can't you just tell me?" she asked back in as natural and innocent of a tone as she could muster through her present anxieties.

Dr. Wells made a deep frustrated sigh. Patience definitely wasn't his thing. "Look," he continued, his words coming out coldly, "stop asking questions for a moment and just cooperate ok?"

"But…how am I supposed to know what you made me for if you won't tell me? That's hardly fair."

"Well, sometimes life isn't fair," he said as the two other scientists began to glance around awkwardly again. The HC Core felt that his statement actually carried quite a bit of weight with it when it came to them. "So when life gives you lemons, just make lemonade, got it?"

Upon hearing those words, some sort of protocol took affect in the HC Core's programming.

[word search….]  
[life…lemons…lemonade…]  
[search results…]  
[689,392,302 results…invention of lemonade…the origins of the lemon…old lemon cake recipes…apterture science johnson lemons…]

"Gah!" the Core cried out as her brain made the search, a list of articles and videos and recordings showing up in her mind's eye. "Whoah…I was NOT expecting that."

The scientists began watching her closely, noticing the change in her behavior. She paused, not knowing how to go on or what to do. She was also rather afraid as she felt that thread of connection between herself and the History file. Although it was only a small portion of it that she was connected to, she still felt very uneasy around it to say the least.

"Well…" Wells prompted, again impatiently. "What've you got for me HC Core?"

For some reason, the files that popped up that pertained specifically to anything involving Aperture Science came up as if written in neon lights – pushing away at the other information as if they contained the most important bits. The HC Core had no idea what was going on in her head, but she figured she had better do something or else Wells was really gonna lose it.

[selecting file…aperture science Johnson lemons…]  
[loading…]

Then, she lost control of her vocal processor as it spewed out what was on the recording.

"Alright I've been thinking. When life gives you lemons, don't make lemonade. Make life take the lemons back! Get mad! I don't want your damn lemons! What am I supposed to do with these!? I demand to see life's manager! Make life rue the day it thought it could give Cave Johnson lemons! Do you know who I am!? I'm the man who's gonna burn your house down, with the lemons! I'm going to get my engineers, to invent a combustible lemon, that burns your house down!"

By this time, all three scientists, Wells included, had all jumped back in alarm as the little core began shouting at them in a voice that was certainly not her own. The HC Core would have tried to stop herself, but she was already so startled by everything that had happened that she just froze there as the recording came through. She didn't like the sensation of it at all. It terrified her.

After the speaker broke down into a coughing fit, it continued, "The point is, if we can store music on a compact disc why can't we storesttcchhhwzzz-"

But the rest of the recording was suddenly cut off.

[file corrupt…]  
[exiting file…]

The HC Core let out another simulated gasp as her voice became her own again. There was a long, awkward moment of silence as the scientists stood there staring at her, with Dr. Wells' eyes having become quite flinty, as if the rant that the HC Core had just let off had been picked out specifically to spite him.

_"__There…there is a rather humorous irony to this though, isn't there?"_ the HC Core thought in mild amusement.

"Um, well…" she finally managed to say out loud. "I…I think I know what my function is now."


	3. Chapter 3

The History and Culture Core.

_"__Not a bad title I suppose,"_ HC Core thought to herself. _"__A bit of mouthful perhaps, but not bad."_

She zoomed along her management rail through the office corridors of Aperture Science, taking in new data and drawing up a map of the place in her files as she went along. After the embarrassing (but rather humorous) episode with the history sound files in her head, Dr. Wells and the other scientists gave her a few more questions and put her through a couple more tests. She wasn't sure how answers to questions like "What's your favorite color?" or "If you had a pet, what would you name it?" meant anything significant (especially when personality cores never had any pets). Nor why they felt the need to have her try to move her arms up and down, seeing as how she didn't have any. Although when asked to do that she found she actually had tried, but only succeeded in moving her handles up and down. She felt a bit embarrassed at having missed something as obvious as that, and yet…something also felt rather right about it somehow.

She shook herself out of her reflections and resumed her cartography of the facility. _"__Anyway,"_ she thought, _"__They were probably just seeing if my hard drive had gotten fully up and running yet. I'm sure it's an easy mistake for a core to make at first – mistaking their handles for hands. Nearly the same thing in comparison I suppose. In their own way."_

As she turned down hallway after hallway, she encountered many different Aperture scientists and employees. But whenever she would give a friendly "Hi," or "Hello," or "Good morning," they only responded with an annoyed glance or half-hearted-over-the-shoulder wave or an unfriendly grunt as their eyes remained glued to their destination or their clipboards.

HC Core wasn't liking this place very much at all, and not just because of the lack of friendly company. All the walls were a blank, pasty white, and there were very few to no windows anywhere. And what windows there were never looked to the outside world. They only looked into some more offices or test chambers (as HC Core now had learned a bit about from her files and from exploring). Unlike the other cores made in Aperture, HC Core probably wouldn't have thought much of it, having not known any other world beyond that of the facility. However, the pictures from her history files would often show grand, intricate, and detailed structures; buildings from the world outside. Some of the HC Core's favorite images came from what she saw in what little data she had on Gothic Cathedrals and old castles and the like.

But she could never look at these things for long as those annoying neon-lit files about Aperture Science would constantly try to get in the way. They may have fixed things so that she would no longer go on an information overload, but they certainly hadn't fixed that annoying little feature. In fact, she thought they may have adjusted her information access almost a bit too well as she found some files, although there, couldn't be accessed without employee approval, and some were left incomplete or corrupt.

She continued down the white washed corridor.

The only times the seemingly endless white void was interrupted with any kind of color was when HC Core saw a few signs hung here and there. But it wasn't like the signs were meant to be particularly interesting or decorative. On them were just warnings about the many possible and bizarre dangers one may encounter within the chambers behind the dozens of doors HC Core had passed by. Ok, so perhaps she found them interesting in the sense that it made her wonder just what sort of odd experiments were going on behind those walls that would cause such possible and weird hazards to ones health, but as her management rail didn't allow her to enter them, she was simply left wondering.

She found she really didn't like wondering about why things were the way they were. At least, wondering without any answers from the past – from History. It left her with a very mild but annoying…itch. Yeah, an itch was perhaps the best way to describe the sensation. It seemed to go away after a while if she let her thoughts go elsewhere, but whenever she encountered something that left her with a question about its past or context or origins, she felt it nagging at her until she found the answer to it stored away in her files, or was found as she gathered new data from her exploration, or left ignored as she moved on to other things. She didn't very much like the last option though. It felt almost similar to giving up, and that for some unknown reason struck a negative chord within her.

Again, she had to shake herself out of her reflections or else risk freezing up again thinking about it too much.

Finally, HC Core came across a fork in her management rail. She looked at the sign on the wall that told where either direction would take her. According to the sign, going left would take her to more test chamber tracks and offices.

"I've seen enough of those for one day I think," she thought out loud, and so decided to go to the right, which according to the sign would take her to "The Relaxation Center".

As she approached the Relaxation Center, HC Core could feel the air around her grow steadily colder, and the hallways and catwalks become darker. It also grew very quiet. There was no longer the underlying murmur of employees and scientists talking amongst themselves, or the clacking of keyboards being typed on, or the bubbling of the water coolers. There was only the hum of the cold air being pumped through the vents and pipes.

Otherwise, there was dead silence. In fact…the whole wing of the Relaxation Center felt to be borderline on just that. Dead.

Images of ancient tombs and mausoleums and graveyards began streaming to the forefront of HC Core's thinking. She began shivering not just with the cold, but also with fear.

She was confused for a moment as to why she had a fear reaction of all things. _"__Why should I be afraid of dead people?"_ she thought to herself. _"__Or, perhaps more specifically in this case, half-dead people. If anything, those sorts of people would be the least threatening, wouldn't they? Why…why am I so afraid?"_

_"__NO!"_

HC Core started back in alarm. It was that voice again, the one from before when all that information came slamming into her for the first time. The one that had called out for help!

_"__No no no please! Stop! Stop! It hurts!"_

"Uh…hallo?"

HC Core nearly jumped out of her quivering robotic shell as the horrible cries in her head were suddenly interrupted by the new voice behind her. Quick as lightening, she whipped round with a yelp of surprise as she was nearly blinded by a glowing blue light pointed right into her optic.

"Aah!" she and the other voice cried out at the same time. "What the- who, who's there?" she managed to stutter. As her vision quickly adjusted to the glowing blue light, she saw that came from the optic of another personality core.

"Oh, uh, that would be me!" the core replied cheerfully in a very distinct British accent. "Name's Wheatley. Pleased to meet you!"


	4. Chapter 4

"Uh…are you ok?" the friendly blue core asked as HC Core merely stared at him, a bit of fear still showing in her optic, but now also a new kind of confusion (and perhaps curiosity) slowly sinking in.

HC Core blinked a couple times and then asked, "Er, sorry just…what did you just say?"

"Oh, I said my name's Wheatley! Nice to meet you!" he repeated, his optical plates shifting in such a way that HC Core thought it looked as close as a robotic core could get to looking like it was smiling. Again, she could only respond with a confused silence as questions began coming into her baffled circuits. _"__Name?"_ she thought. _"__Since when do personality cores have names?"_

"Uh, yeah, ok. Um…" the blue core began again, his expression shifting to show one of being rather creeped out by HC Core's blank stare. "It is generally considered polite to introduce yourself in return you know. Not-not to say that you're being rude! Even though you are kinda being rude right now, but, er, unless you happen to be particularly shy – which maybe you are, I dunno, we only just met – but, if you could at least stop staring at me like that, that would be appreciated."

"Um, sorry," HC Core responded, trying to make her gaze a bit less analyzing. "I'm just a bit confused. You…you have a name?"

"Yup!" he responded proudly, the awkwardness from before seeming to be forgotten for the moment. "They said they specially programmed one for me, unlike most other cores. In fact, look! They gave me a sticker to prove it!"

With his optic he gestured toward the little faded sticker that was stuck to the right side of the ring around his optic. As HC Core looked closely, she could see that on it was the word, 'BRAZIL'.

"Brazil," she read aloud.

"Yup! That's short for 'Braziliant' by the way!" he said with a happy wave of his handles. "It's a combination of the words brilliant and resilient."

"Oh," HC Core replied. "My data banks tell me that Brazil is the name of a country in South America, and was claimed for colonization by the Portugese around the year…1500 I think."

Now it was Wheatley's turn to reply with a blank stare. "Um…ok, yeah, I have no idea what you just rattled on about there, Ms. – oh! Blimey! I still don't know your name yet do I? Heh heh! Sorry, I do tend to go off on tangents a lot. Didn't mean to slow down the introductions. Anyway, seeing as how you're definitely not one of the shy types, what is your name?"

HC Core looked down and slightly to the right as she responded. "Well, I'm the HC Core. The HC stands for History and Culture."

"Oooh! Sounds fancy!" Wheatley replied cheerfully. "Very nice title. Very…you, somehow I'm sure. But, uh, what's your name?"

HC Core glanced back up at him before looking down again, shaking her head from side to side, "I don't have a name."

"You don't have a name?" Wheatley asked, genuinely surprised. "Well that's jolly rotten of them. Forgetting to program you with a name."

"I don't think Dr. Wells is prone to forget things," HC Core said in a dry tone.

"Dr. Wells?" Wheatley asked confused. "Hmm…don't think I've ever met him. Is he the one who programmed you?"

"Apparently."

"That's too bad," Wheatley said. "The fellows who programmed me made it a point to give me a name. Of course later they…well they…" Wheatley trailed off, seeming to be lost on thought for a moment. And if his sudden change in expression was anything to go by, HC Core thought they must have been rather unpleasant thoughts. Eventually he gave himself a shake, and continued his rambling. "Anyway, anyway, like I said, you're not the only one who was programmed with no name though. In fact, I had to help some of the other cores find their names."

"What?" HC Core asked, now very curious. Not only about the concept of names, but her newly made file on this Wheatley core had suddenly become the most interesting one she had been composing that day, and the historian part of her was eager to learn more about him.

"Yeah," Wheatley continued. "Hey! Maybe I could help you pick out a name!"

"Oh, well, I dunno," HC Core replied, with an expression that could be read as bashfulness.

"C'mon! It'll be fun!" Wheatley encouraged.

"Well…we can give it a try," HC Core responded hesitantly.

"Great!" Wheatley exclaimed. His optic then narrowed, focusing on HC Core, as if he were trying to look very professional and insightful on the subject of nomenclature. A few moments ago, HC Core would have perhaps found it creepy, but with the new data on the Wheatley Core in her files, she found she actually had to keep herself from giggling at him.

"Hmm…let's see then. Well, you have a maroon-colored optic. But, no names having to do with the color maroon are coming to mind. Huh…you did ramble off something about Brazil before…but you don't really look like a Brazil to me…"

Wheatley continued to ramble on about possible names for HC Core, but she slowly began to tune these out as a strange…'idea' seemed to begin nagging at the back of her hard drive. She did all that she could to try to grasp the fluid strings of the idea floating about out there, and eventually, the idea began to take shape.

_"__An 'M' …Yes, the letter 'M' is definitely involved…and then…then there's….ugh! No, I lost it again! Er, no…wait, wait! It's coming back again…it's like…it looks like. Oh, golly, this is diffi- …wait! 'M'…'golly'…'olly'…_

"Molly," HC Core said aloud.

"Sorry, what?" Wheatley replied. HC Core then realizing she had just interrupted him.

"Uh…Molly," she repeated. "I…I think that's my name."


	5. Chapter 5

For the first time in her existence, Molly was happy.

After finally having a name to call her own, Molly asked Wheatley if he would show her around the Relaxation Center. She wanted to map out as much of it as she could for her data banks, and get to know more about him at the same time. He was happy enough to oblige, and even happier it seemed to have someone to talk to. He of course did most of the talking, but Molly was happy to listen.

"So, basically the whole Relaxation Center is a giant storage unit for the test subjects," Wheatley explained. "See, basically the center is made up of little rooms that, when clumped together, make big storage units that can be shifted and moved about. That is so rooms can be shifted around individually, or collectively. Each test subject has their own room. - or cryotank or these cot…things…that are located in the far eastern wing. Depends on what kind of cryosleep that've been put under. The ones in the rooms are under for an indefinite amount of time, but are woken up periodically for their mandatory physical and mental wellness exercises. That's part of my job! Making sure the computers in here keep on waking them up, and making sure they don't suffer any mild cases of serious brain damage or anything. Long periods of cryosleep can sometimes do that to humans. The ones in the cot-like units are the ones that are in the cue for the testing tracts. When the testing track is ready for them, they are shipped over there and released onto the tracks. The ones in the tanks…well, to be honest they haven't really told me what exactly that's all about. Not that they tell me much of anything anyway. I think some of them were once part of some sort of DNA experiment, but they didn't give me any details about it. Except- except they did tell me that I shouldn't go about messing with their monitoring units or anything like that. They said the security on them would fry the circuits off any unauthorized tech that tries to fiddle with them. So basically, if you touch them, you will die. Ugh! Unpleasant thought, right?"

Molly nodded in agreement. As they continued to zoom along the management rail, Molly couldn't help but think that although the relaxation center still felt similar to a giant crypt – with half-dead test subjects behind every closed door – she felt much better about it now that she had Wheatley for company. His endless chattering distracted her from the cold and darkness of the place, and helped to drown out the intimidating and grim background noise of the humming life-support vents.

Yet she couldn't help but feel it odd that the scientists would program the relaxation center attendant core to have such a lively personality if his function revolved around such a dull and grim job. Maybe it was so the test subjects would have a friendly voice to wake up to when their long sleep was over, or maybe because such a personality allowed him to combat the boredom, and perhaps a degree of depression, that may affect someone else. Still…even then, something about this job and his personality didn't seem to line up with each other. It really made Molly wonder about it. But like she'd already come to realize about herself before, Molly didn't very much like wondering about things. She liked to investigate, to _know_ things.

"Wheatley?" she finally asked.

"Yup?" he replied with a cheerful tone as he continued along the management rail ahead of her.

"What exactly is your function?"

He paused suddenly. So suddenly that Molly nearly collided into him. He turned around rather hesitantly, his voice taking on an almost…frightened?...tone, and asked, "Sorry, er, what?"

"What exactly is your function?" Molly repeated. "I mean, my title is the History and Culture Core, so you must have a title too yes? What is it?"

"Uh…well…"

Wheatley paused for a long moment. At least, it certainly seemed long after all the talking he'd been doing before. He avoided making eye contact with Molly, and his mood seemed to go from overly cheerful to hauntingly hurt. The cold and the dark and the eerie hum were once again starting to get to Molly, making her shiver slightly.

"Well?" she couldn't help but prompt him.

"Umm…well…you see…" Wheatley started to say, seeming to have in inner argument with himself at the same time. "My title…is…uh…is…Well, it's….itsIDCore." He said the last bit so quickly, and with a slight hint of venom, that Molly nearly didn't catch what he said. He also shut his optic tight and recoiled as if in anguish.

"Oh," Molly said simply, trying to be as casual about it as she could, but feeling more and more by the minute that she perhaps accidentally broached a sensitive subject. She would have perhaps stopped there, but being so new to the world, and feeling that 'itch' start up again, she couldn't help but press on with her inquiry. "So…what does the ID stand for?"

Wheatley's optic snapped open, and for a split second he looked inexplicably yet undeniably extremely hurt. This frightened Molly almost more than the images of haunted graveyards that had been coming into her mind since entering the relaxation center. But the next moment it was gone again. An idea seemed to occur to him, and he replied, "It…well, it- it stands for Identification of course. You know, ID like as in ID tags and things. A good portion of my job deals with having to keep all the test subjects' and employees' identities straight. You know, cataloguing them away and knowing which scientists need which test subjects and all that. So…yeah, I guess you could say I'm the Identity Core. Yup, that's me!"

"Uh huh…" Molly replied, trying to keep the skepticism out of her voice. Just then, the timer went off in her head, telling her it was nearly time for her to be back to check in with Dr. Wells.

"Oh! Well, it looks like it's about time for me to head back to my own base. I better be quick. Will hopefully see you again soon though Wheatley. Thanks for the tour and everything. Was nice to meet you!"

"Oh, and, uh, you too Molly!" Wheatley managed to reply cheerfully enough. "You take care now! Will see you around. You- you know where to find me."

"Good-bye Wheatley," Molly called out as she zipped away on her management rail.

As she left the relaxation center, Molly went over again the new data she had collected on the facility and on the Wheatley core. A couple of things she came to know for certain. 1.) Wheatley was lying about his function. If he really was the Identity Core, why didn't he know who Dr. Wells was? When Molly had mentioned him before, Wheatley said he had never heard of him. 2.) Thus Wheatley hadn't told her everything about himself, about the scientists who programmed him, or why he was there as the relaxation center attendant. Why was that? And 3.) –

Molly stopped suddenly, as her inner map didn't line up quite right with where she was or where her management rail was going. It then struck her.

3.) …The walls and hallways in this place…They move…


	6. Chapter 6

"It's about time you came back," Dr. Wells greeted Molly grumpily as she glided back into the lab on her management rail. He had turned around on the swivel chair he sat in in front of his desk, which was piled with folders and diagrams, a cup filled with pens, and a few clipboards hanging on the wall just above them.

"Sorry Doctor," Molly replied in a neutral tone. "It took me a while to activate my Apterture Science Personality Core GPS Device."

_"__Plus you didn't tell me that portions of this place shift about like a giant rubics cube!"_ she thought to herself. She would have said it out loud, but she knew Dr. Wells didn't take kindly to any kind of accusation or confrontation.

With a sigh of impatience, Dr. Wells grabbed one of the clipboards, and with a click of his pen and his eyes trained to the page in front of him asked, "So, learn anything new today?"

"Quite a bit as a matter of fact," Molly replied cheerfully, for she found she couldn't wait to tell all about the new data she had downloaded that day. Even if it was telling it to grouchy old Dr. Wells. "I've learned a little about the employees and office life here at Aperture Science, I learned what the test chambers were and a bit of how they function, and I learned a few things about the layout of the place. Which is hard to keep straight as it shifts around quite a bit for some reason." Molly looked at Dr. Wells with an expression that she hoped would prompt him into explaining more about that peculiarity of the place.

"You'll get used to it," was his only reply as his eye remained glued to the clipboard, scribbling more chicken scratch on the page, and also seeming to add a checkmark in boxes here and there. Molly's optic narrowed a bit in annoyance at this, but she continued on cheerfully enough. "I also met another personality core."

"Did you?" Dr. Wells said, his voice at least gaining a slightly more interested tone as his pen became still, poised above the page, ready to write even more. "Which one?"

"The ID Core, or Wheatley he said his name was," Molly replied.

Upon hearing her say this, instead of scribbling more words on the page, Dr. Wells looked up at her with an expression that was almost unreadable, but Molly was sure she detected small traces of suspicious or uneasiness, or both. "And…?" he prompted with a raise of an eyebrow.

"And what?" Molly asked.

"What did you learn about him?" Dr. Wells asked, still writing nothing on the clipboard.

"Oh, right, well, I learned that his title is ID Core, and that his name is Wheatley, and-"

"Personality cores don't have names, HC Core," Dr. Wells interrupted tersely.

"Well…why not?" Molly replied, thinking back on her own newly-found name. "There's nothing wrong with that is there? And Wheatley said his creators-"

"It's not a question of right or wrong," Dr. Wells replied. "It's a question of protocol. Personality cores don't need names, so we don't give them any."

"Oh…" Molly replied sadly, not really understanding what Dr. Wells meant. But she felt that not giving a personality core a name felt the same as calling a person by a number rather than by a name. It felt so…_im_personal. But why should she care? She wasn't a person herself, only a personality core. These feelings really confused her.

"So, again," Dr. Wells prompted, snapping Molly out of her sad thoughts, "what else did you learn from the Intelligence Dampening Sphere? And I assume that-"

"Sorry sir, what did you just say?" Molly interrupted in surprise.

"I said," Dr. Wells repeated angrily, "what else did you learn from the Intelligence Dampening Sphere? Are your audio receptors not working?"

"N-no," Molly replied with a stutter. "They- they're working fine. I just…I'm just confused. Wheatley's ti- I mean, ID Core's title is Intelligence Dampening Sphere?"

Dr. Wells then looked as if he said something he perhaps shouldn't have, as if he partially spilled the beans; told a portion of a secret to someone who wasn't meant to hear it. "Yes…Why? Does that surprise you?"

"Well, I'm just very confused about his function now," Molly replied, her mind racing in trying to choose her words carefully. "I mean, he was the Relaxation Center Attendant, yet he's called the Intelligence Dampening Sphere? That doesn't make sense. Why would-"

"That is none of your business," Dr. Wells interrupted very sternly.

"Then what exactly is my business?" Molly found herself nearly shouting back, her…emotions? of frustration and confusion and helplessness reaching a breaking point, and her _itch_ to know things becoming unbearable. "You told me I'm the History and Culture Core, but nothing beyond that. Is my purpose here just to rattle off bits of the past when you lot need to recall something? Or am I some sort of record keeper? You could at least tell me that! Or am I also going to be put somewhere where my skills hardly match up with what-"

"You shut up!" Dr. Wells shouted back at her, standing up suddenly, his face now only inches away from Molly's optic. "WE determine what your purpose is, alright! Whatever we tell you to do, you do it. Whatever we program you to do, you do it. That's all you need to know. Now I don't want to hear any more of your pathetic whining over nothing HC Core, or else-"

"It's Molly."

Dr. Wells immediately stopped his rant as Molly spoke her name, his face shifting quickly from anger to astonishment. "Wh-what did you say?"

"Molly," she repeated. "That, _sir_, is my name." It felt like such a random thing to say, but Molly found that uttering her name gave her sense of confidence. A sense of self. Perhaps that's one of the reasons why they don't give cores names…

Dr. Wells began to turn pale. "Where did you get that idea?" he tried to ask steadily, but Molly detected a slight waver in his voice. But Molly didn't reply. She simply glared back at him. Perhaps had she known herself why she felt Molly ought to be her name she may have tried to explain, but then…no. Even if she had known, she wouldn't tell him. Why should he care anyway, if what he says is true about personality cores and names?

Finally, Dr. Wells broke the staring contest, grabbed several papers and files off his desk, and stated, "I've had enough of this for today," and stormed out of the lab, shutting the door behind him, locking Molly in that room until someone came back and let her out again. If indeed they did let her roam about freely again (well, as free as a management rail was anyway). After this tirade, Molly didn't think there was much of a possibility of that happening. At least, not for a while. For now, she was grounded.

Molly hung there from the ceiling, feeling so angry and miserable that she had no idea what to do with herself. Letting off some sounds of simulated deep breathes though seemed to help for some reason. She did that for a time, her frustration then being replaced with a great uneasiness, for now she was no longer confident in her purpose here in Aperture.

_Who was she exactly?_ It was yet another question that was left unanswered in the silence of that lab, save for the ominous humming noise coming from behind its walls.


	7. Chapter 7

"Oh, hey there stranger! Haven't seen ya 'round here before. Name's Rick!"

Molly turned her optic to see the core that had come zooming from behind along the management rail parallel to hers. His optic was green, with a black rectangle that darted about in it like a pupil.

"Oh, hello," Molly replied, trying to hide the nervousness, disappointment, and confusion that had been haunting her for the last couple days while locked in Dr. Well's office. They had finally let her out again, but upon her exiting the room and looking up her management rail map in her head, she found they had adjusted the track so that she was much more limited in where she could go than before. (It seemed not only the walls could be shifted about in this place.)

One of the places she noticed that was absent on her map was the Relaxation Center.

"They obviously don't want me talking to Wheatley again," she thought in disappointment. He had been the only friendly sentient being that she had encountered in that whole place, and perhaps the only one who had any answers to any of her questions, despite what they said about him being the Intelligence Dampening Sphere. She could only hope that there were perhaps others who were also as kind – and who also had more information about the place - wandering around the hallways of the offices and testing tracks.

Perhaps she just got her wish.

"My name's Molly."

"Oooh! Nice t'meet ya Ms. Molly!" Rick responded upon hearing her feminine voice, with a look and tone that could only be interpreted as flirtatious. "You're a right pretty core, if I may say so. Such a lovely shade of maroon," he said, looking deep into her colored optic.

_"__Oh, you are kidding me!"_ Molly thought, totally caught off guard by Rick's compliments and behavior. "Oh, uh, thank you…I think," she managed to stammer, her optic quickly darting away, and her circuits beginning to give her a sense of simulated bashfulness.

"So," Rick continued, oblivious to Molly's discomfort, "what's a lovely lady core like yourself doing wanderin' the hallways all by yourself?"

"Just, uh, you know. Getting to know the facility and stuff."

"Well, good thing you ran into ol' Rick then!" he exclaimed. "I'm an Adventure Sphere you know! I'm all about danger, exploration, and new discoveries! So, uh, hows about you and I explore this wing of the facility together? I have a keen sense of direction, and I know how to treat a lady I assure you. And anyone else tries to give you trouble, you leave 'em to me. Ol' Rick will have them on the run, don't you worry. I've also heard there were once mutated mantis-men who wreaked havoc on this place. Who's to say there aren't still some hidin' away somewhere? A nice lady core like yourself will need a strong, smart core like me to fight 'em off!"

_"__Riiiight…and with what?"_ Molly wanted to reply, seeing as how they were both only metal spheres that couldn't even fight off a horse fly, let alone giant mantis men or even just one of the scrawny IT guys, but she held her tongue. (Well, metaphorically seeing as how she didn't actually have a tongue.)

That was another thing that bothered Molly about being a core. She felt so helpless all the time. She needed a management rail to get around (if she wasn't being carried anywhere), she only had the functions and thoughts and feelings that she had because someone else had programmed them into her, and her physical design hardly gave her any means of real defense against anything. She felt so useless as well, especially after everything that had happened.

"Hey, uh…you alright there miss?" Rick asked, snapping Molly out of her moment in la-la-land.

"Oh, sorry," Molly replied. "I was just thinking."

"Ah, I understand," Rick said. "Had to take a moment to picture ol' Rick taking down monsters like a boss, right? Yeah, don't feel bad about that darlin'. You can go ahead and picture me in that lovely mind of yours all you want."

_"__Oh good grief!"_ Molly thought in exasperation as she rolled her optic, hoping that anytime soon their rails would end up taking them in different directions. No such luck yet.

As they went down corridor after corridor, Rick didn't get any less flirtatious with Molly, making her extremely uncomfortable. On top of that, he would even randomly break out into playing theme music from various adventure movies and TV shows from is audio files.

Yet despite all this, Molly eventually became intrigued by the Adventure Sphere. One reason was because like herself and Wheatley, there seemed to be this inexplicable degree of personality to him. He was still totally obsessed with the idea of Adventure, and no matter how hard she tried Molly couldn't steer the conversation to anything else, but there was still…a something there that dumbfounded her. Something she couldn't quite put her metaphorical finger on.

Molly also found that after she got over the initial meet and greet with Rick, she found that his adventuresome-ness became more and more amusing. She was sure he would be insulted if she were to tell him that, but she did find that against her better judgment, she was actually somewhat enjoying this new exploration because of it. Although it felt a bit corny to be motoring along on their management rails through the offices while having Mission Impossible playing, being in plain sight of everyone there so the sneakiness aspect was nonexistent, it did make it…fun.

Not only that, but she also found that Rick's adventuresome spirit gave her a sense of bravery. Of course Rick was more reckless than brave, but at least he didn't let the fact that he was a helpless little personality core get him down. To himself, he was an invincible force to be reckoned with. Molly wouldn't go so far as to think that about herself, but her history files were full of examples of people who – despite their apparent weaknesses – were able to overcome obstacles with optimism. Some even sought out such challenges just for the sake of Adventure.

_"__What peculiar creatures we humans are,"_ she thought to herself with a metaphorical smile. But the millisecond after that thought crossed through her circuits, she stopped abruptly in shock.

"-now watch yourself here missy! These panels could start moving any second you know and-" Rick turned to face Molly who sat frozen on her management rail. "Oh, c'mon, don't be afraid darlin'. Like I've been tellin' ya, Rick will take care of any-" But Rick was suddenly interrupted by another core that came whizzing by on a third management rail that had begun to run alongside the other two, shouting all the way at the top of its vocal processors, "SSSPPAAAAAACCCCEEE! YEEEEEHHHHHAAAWWWWW!"

Rick began shouting after the little yellow Space Core in annoyance, using several choice words here and there, but Molly hardly noticed any of these things.

_"…__WE?..."_ she thought in confusion. _"…__Why…why WE?"_


	8. Chapter 8

Molly sat their on the management rail for several moments, going over and over again in her head why on earth she would have such a glitch in her thoughts. Why, when talking about humans, did she identify them as we all of a sudden. Not _those_ humans, but _we_ humans.

"Gotta go to space gottagotospacegottagotospacegottagotspacegottagotossssSSSSPPAAAACCCEEE!"

"Argh!" Rick growled back at the Space Core now shouting nonsense about space at him. "Would you shut up! NOBODY CARES ABOUT SPACE!"

"Did you say space? Wann go to space! Space rocks! Space dust! SPACE!"

_"__Was…was it because I know so much of their history?"_ Molly thought. _"__Cultures and groups of people tend to identify with each other and rally together when they feel they share a history. Yeah…maybe…maybe that's it. I'm just empathizing with those whose story I know. No big deal…"_

But Molly couldn't shake the feeling that it _was_ a big deal. In fact, as simple of a statement as that may have seemed, Molly felt that it was significant somehow. But she didn't finish her thoughts as the Space Core zipped by her so quickly that she shook with the rush of air that followed him. Not far behind him on his own rail, Rick – still shouting angrily at the Space Core – was trying to drive him back down the hall, away from him and "the lovely lady core." Molly figured this was an opportune moment for her to make her escape. As much as she liked having the company of other cores, hanging out with them for too long could really take it out of her, let alone having to put up with Rick's flirtatious statements and behavior so constantly. Feeling that she had had enough Adventure for one day, Molly discreetly backed away along her management rail, and was soon zooming off on her own again down more unexplored corridors, the shouts of the other two cores quickly fading away behind her.

For the next hour or so, Molly didn't encounter much else new. She figured that perhaps now would be a good time to turn back and call it a day. But as Molly motored along a little longer, she encountered a very dark corridor that looked like it hadn't been kept up in ages. In order to see where she was going she had to turn on her flashlight feature, and in the beam of light coming from it she could see a thick layer of dust and dirt on the floor, scratched up panels lining the walls and ceiling, some decaying with rust, and even a few that had come loose and were hanging at odd angles with inky black gaps yawning between them.

Molly didn't like the feeling of this place at all. Which for her by now was not much of a new thing to report.

As she came to the end of the corridor, Molly saw that there was an elevator shaft that also looked a bit dilapidated, and yet it looked as if it was reinstalled relatively recently. She couldn't get near enough to have a good look at it though, for her management rail ended about ten yards away from it, and her view was also blocked by a sign hanging above the entryway that said, "Elevator to condemned testing area. DO NOT ENTER! KEEP OUT!"

"Huh…" Molly thought out loud. "I wonder what that's all about."

"There you are!" a quiet little voice said to Molly's right.

Molly whipped around quick at lightning, her optic contracting to a pinprick and her outer shell clattering in fear as she looked straight into the optic of a turret. It was peering at her through one of the gaps behind a few panels, it's optic now come to light and its harsh red beam boring into Molly's own eye.

"Aaah! Oh, oh, omigosh!" Molly exclaimed in alarm. Although turrets were programmed to only fire at a designated target, it wasn't unheard of for them to go bonkers from time to time and just shoot at anything that moved. Not wanting to be the possible target of a possibly crazy turret, Molly began to make a break for it, but quickly jerked to a halt as her motor came stuck on the track after only going a few inches. Molly tried desperately to get it running again, but nothing happened. It was dead on the tracks.

"Oh no oh no oh no!" Molly cried out. "Hey!" she yelled back down the corridor. "Anyone here? Help, please! I'm stuck!"

"I'm different," the quiet voice of the turret said.

"Wh-what?" Molly asked, cautiously glancing over at the turret.

"Get mad," the turret replied.

Molly was so confused by the turret's reply that for a split moment she forgot to be afraid at it and just stared at it. "Wha…wait, what now?"

"Don't make lemonade," it continued.

Molly blinked at the turret in astonishment. She had heard those words before! On the very day of her creation!

_"__When life gives you lemons, don't make lemonade! Make life take the lemons back! Get mad!"_

"Wh-where did you hear that?" Molly asked, her voice shaky.

"I wanna go home," the turret answered. "It hurts."

Molly had heard those words too! "How-how did you-"

"The answer is beneath us," the turret went on sweetly. "Her name is Caroline."

"I-I, who now?" Molly asked.

"Cassandra was given the gift of prophecy by the god Apollo," the turret continued. "He eventually cursed her gift so that whomever heard her words would never believe her."

Molly didn't reply beyond cocking her head to the side, by now thoroughly confused and fascinated at the same time.

"Oedipus put out his eyes and wandered blindly into the wilderness after finding out the truth about his past," the turret said in its still sweet voice, which made Molly shiver. "His daughter and sister, Antigone, took care of him. Years later she faced the wrath of the king of Thebes for defying his law over the burial of her brother, and thus locked inside a room of stone where she killed herself."

Molly now looked back at the turret in utter disgust and horror. It's not like she didn't already have that story in her files, but hearing it come from the turret was just so…terrifying. "Why…why would you tell me that?"

"She's the huntress, both alive and dead. She waits for the fool to open the box."

"Look, would-would you please stop?" Molly finally said. "You're-you're really creeping me out. Just who programmed you to-"

"That's all I can say," the turret stated, it's tone now sounding strangely tired. "Good bye." And with that, the light from it's optic winked out, and the space behind the panels went pitch black again.

"What? No, hey wait! I didn't mean-"

Just then, the motor on Molly's management rail purred back to life. She was extremely curious about what that little "different" turret had been going on about, and how it knew all that it did, but right now she was more freaked out than curious. With the motor now working again, she flew back out of that dark corridor, and into the lighted hallways of the offices of Aperture Science.


	9. Chapter 9

As soon as she felt she was safe, Molly slowed down along her management rail, her vocal processors simulating the sound of deep, ragged breaths. Although Molly had no actual lungs, some things – like getting frightened half to death by a 'different' turret that spouts off phrases only she herself could have known, and then throwing in eerie cryptic phrases now and again to boot – just called for responses similar to taking actual deep breaths.

"Whew, that…that was rather disturbing," she said aloud. And just as she did so-

"BOO!"

"AAAAHHHH!" Molly screamed, nearly jumping out of her spherical shell as the sudden voice came from behind her. As her optic darted frantically about, she saw that yet another personality core had come up behind her, it's own spherical shell shaking with mischievous laughter.

"Ha ha ha! Gotcha!" it said through its giggles, the voice indicating its feminine persona.

"Don't DO that!" Molly yelled back angrily.

"Oh, c'mon!" the core replied, still giggling a bit at Molly's frazzled expression. "You gotta admit that was funny."

"No it wasn't!" Molly said tersely, her voice cracking a bit. "You almost scared me to death! As if I hadn't been frightened enough already!"

"Oh…I-I'm sorry," the core replied, suddenly very contrite. "I didn't mean to upset you, really. I was just joking around."

"Well, I do wish you wouldn't," said Molly, the terseness still not quite gone from her voice.

"I…I'm sorry," the core said quietly, optic turned away from Molly towards the floor. "I'll-I'll just go now then." And she began motoring off the other way along her rail.

"No, wait!" Molly called after her. The other core turned in Molly's direction, her white-gray optic seeming to stare right through her. This caused Molly to pause for a split second, thinking perhaps that the core was only trying to perhaps frighten her again with a blank stare, but she ignored it and continued, "Y-you don't have to go. I'm sorry I wasn't such a good sport just now. I just…well, had a bit of an, er- encounter with a…a 'different' turret I guess you could say."

"Oh!" the core replied, suddenly perking up, although her optic still looking clouded and blank. "You've- you've actually seen Cassandra then!?"

Molly's optic opened wide at the mentioning of the name. "Who?"

"Cassandra," the core continued. "She's the Different Turret that is said to haunt the most obscure corners of Aperture Science. There's no record of her being manufactured here, and some believe that she doesn't even exist. But there are some who said they have seen her, and that she can read minds and tell the future and stuff. Isn't that cool!?"

"Uh, yeah…yeah, sure sounds cool," Molly said in a shaky tone. She could also feel a slight 'itch' starting to come on again. "There's a history here," it told her. "You need to find out more!"

"So, um," Molly began to ask, trying to sound casual in her inquiry, "Whose idea was it to name her Cassandra?"

"Hmm…I actually don't know," the core replied. "There's nothing I can recall in my records that tells- Oh! I just thought! I haven't told you my name yet have I! I'm Ruby by the way!" the core said enthusiastically. "What yours newbie?"

"Uh, Molly."

"Nice to meet you Molly!" Ruby said with a smile-like expression, although her optic still stayed clouded and blank.

"Nice to meet you too," Molly replied, her own optic making a slightly puzzled expression towards Ruby. Ruby didn't seem to respond to it. "Uh…I'm sorry," Molly finally plucked up the courage to say, "but uh…is-is something, um, your optic I mean. Well, it's-"

"Ah, that," Ruby said, her optical plates slowly closing and opening up again over her optical lens. "Yeah, sorry if that confused you. I guess I should have mentioned, I can't actually see out of this thing. But I get around ok via my inner map and compass, and also by using my aural processors to hear where things are around me. Not just like hearing your voice coming from your direction for example, but I can also tell where things are by the way the sound bounces off them, like the walls and storage cubes and things."

"That's amazing!" Molly exclaimed, truly astonished. Who knew cores could develop other senses like echolocation! "Although I have to ask," Molly continued, her curiosity still running full steam ahead, "why did they make you that way? Not-not to say you're not fine the way you are. I just, uh, oh this isn't coming out right," Molly finished in embarrassment.

"It's ok," Ruby replied simply. "The truth is…well…I wasn't always blind like this."

"Oh," Molly said, now very confused. "Then, uh, then why didn't they fix your optic after it malfunctioned?"

"Because…" here Ruby paused for quite a while, her optic turned down towards the floor again, and her voice gone quiet and also a bit scared and sad. "Because they said I have no purpose anymore. That I'm not worth the trouble. Not after…" here Ruby gave a shudder, as if recalling a horrible memory. "After…_Her_."

"Her?" Molly asked. "Her who?"

Ruby's optic suddenly shot back up, right in Molly's direction, her optical plates opening as wide as they would go. Molly found herself backing up a few inches on her management rail as Ruby's expression could only be interpreted as one of alarm and horror. "Y-you mean you…" Ruby stuttered. "They-they haven't told you!? You don't know!?"

"Don't know what?" Molly asked, finding the Itch receding behind the stronger sensation of fear creeping in on her again.

Ruby shook her core side to side, mimicking the motion of a person shaking their head in disbelief. "Oh Molly…" Ruby began again. "They've just been feeding you cake this whole time have they?"

"Um…no," Molly said, thinking perhaps such random statement were possibly a part of another one of Ruby's jokes, and that the punch line may be just around the corner from here. "I don't exactly, er, have the equipment for that, being a core and all."

At this point Ruby's vocal processors sighed in response. "That's not what I- oh, never mind. Clearly they haven't briefed you on your _real_ purpose then have they?"

Molly's own optic began mirroring Ruby's now, taking on its own expression of alarm, and her old suspicions coming back online. "What do you mean? I- They…they already told me what my purpose is."

"And what did they tell you?" Ruby asked, her mood having done a complete 180 from her first seemingly cheerful self. Now she sounded as serious as the grave.

"W-well, they told me I'm the HC Core. Or History and Culture Core. And-and I keep records, kinda like you I guess, and-and whenever they want to know something they just ask-"

"Ah," Ruby interrupted, sounding the way one did who felt themselves in the process of solving a long-forgotten mystery. "I wondered which core they had copied some of my files into."

"YOUR files?" Molly asked in astonishment.

"I told you, I'm a Records Core," Ruby said. "You gotta have your records to do your history dontcha? And they had to come from somewhere. Or some_thing_ in this case, the thing being _me_. Hmph! Guess they thought my seemingly near success just needed a bit more tweaking and then it should work. Idiots. It's gonna take more than that to hold _Her_ back, why can't they see that!?"

"Ok, back up a moment," Molly interrupted, now thoroughly confused, and more and more anxiety growing in her by the minute. "I have no idea what you're talking about. All I know is I'm the HC Core, they told me what my purpose is, I am really sorry if they copied some of your files to make me, but as awful as that may seem to be, I'm- I'm just me, ok? And that's the third time you've mentioned _Her_. So who is this 'Her', and what's she got to do with anything?"

"Everything Molly," Ruby replied, her voice adding force to every syllable. "Absolutely everything."


	10. Chapter 10

_"__Alright boys, let's get this show on the road!"_

_"Let's hope it works this time."_

_"How many of these have we made again?"_

_"Too many. We should have had this all solved and sorted out by now."_

_As the cart carrying her wheeled into the large, central chamber, Ruby couldn't help but overhear the brief conversation between the scientists as she passed by, their words not helping at all to ease her nervous processor and quivering outer shell. For the big day had finally arrived._

_Finally, after weeks of being under observation, answering questions, and jumping through all the other kinds of bizarre hoops the engineers felt the need to employ before finalizing on their decision, she was told she was ready for her real purpose. Yet even having passed all the tests, she felt so unprepared for what lay ahead. The engineers hadn't given her much of a briefing on what she should do or what she should expect. The only thing they had told her was that she should just 'be herself.'_

"That doesn't give me a whole lot to go on," _she thought as her optic darted about anxiously._ "But then…I guess they wouldn't let me do...whatever I'm supposed to do…if they didn't think I was ready."

_"__Already, steady boys. Let's take it on up!"_

_Ruby felt the cart jerk to a stop at the center of the chamber. As one of the engineers picked her up by the upper handle, and began ascending a ladder towards what looked like a tangle of wires and semi-armored computer hardware devices, she began to feel a sick sensation in her metaphorical gut. By the way the scientists had talked, she could tell that something big was about to go down, and the fact that she was now being put up so high didn't help things either._

"Oh, I really hope I can do this!" _she thought in earnest._

_As the engineer plugged her into one of the ports on the side of the big machine hanging from the ceiling, Ruby shut her optic tight and took a few simulated deep breathes._

_"You ready Records Core?" the engineer asked._

_"Um…y-yes," Ruby replied, trying her utmost to remain calm. "I'm ready."_

_The engineer backed down the ladder, and as Ruby peeked open her optic, she saw quite a number of scientists staring back up at her. The sick feeling in her somehow found room to grow a bit more._

_"Alright gents, the core's secure!"_

_"Ready reactivation procedures for Central Core."_

_"Wait, Central Core?" Ruby thought in confusion. "What's a Central Core?"_

_"Begin reactivation procedures."_

_"This is it boys."_

_"It better work this time."_

_"Reactivating in T-minus 10 seconds."_

_As the seconds began to wind down, the whole chamber grew silent and still, save for an underlying humming noise that began to crescendo as the clock was winding down._

_"GLaDOS coming back online in 3…2…1."_

_Suddenly, the tangle of cords and computer parts beneath Ruby moved, and pulled themselves and her up even higher. But Ruby hardly noticed this, for just as the clock reached zero…SOMETHING….something absolutely massive could be felt connecting into her consciousness. Not only was this something massive in size, but Ruby could feel instantly that it contained a massive amount of power as well, and intelligence…and anger._

_Ruby nearly screamed, for it felt as if her own self began to shrink in the presence of this other one, and she could feel it grip onto her consciousness like a feral cat gripping a mouse in its jaws. While it may not have caused her any harm (at least not yet), there was certainly no mistaking the great danger she was now in._

_Then…came the Voice._

"So, which one are you this time?"

_The voice was feminine, with icy coldness outlining each syllable. At first, Ruby didn't dare reply to it. As she hesitated, she found that this thing's patience was extremely thin, for barely a nanosecond had passed since the Voice asked the question, and then it was gripping down even further on Ruby's consciousness, now giving a sense of throbbing pain._

"I said, which one are you!?"

_Ruby's mind began scrambling, disc jumping and whirring inside her._ "I…I'm…I'm the Record's Core. They-they sent me here to-?"

"Please," _came the Voice again._ "Don't bother. It'll only make your already pitiful situation even more pitiful. I honestly do not have any more patience for poorly-designed temporary solutions like yourself. But don't feel too bad, because there is a bright side in all this. After I deal with you, I can then be free to deal with the desperate idiots who were cruel enough to create you, thus getting revenge for you for your existence. So, there's that."

"WHAT!?" _Ruby exclaimed in hurt and horror._ "Wait! Nononono! You-you don't understand. I-I'm here to-"

"Now if you'll excuse me, there's Science to do. Good-bye."

_Ruby now felt the jaws finally clamp down hard on her consciousness, triggering the pain receptors in her system. Had she been able to do so, Ruby would have now questioned why the scientists had felt the need to give her such keen pain receptors. But now all that she could think about was the pain itself, as the source of the voice began surging massive amounts of energy into the files of her small mainframe. Now she really was screaming, her voice echoing across the central chamber. Alarms began ringing, and she could just hear the shouts of the humans as they ran frantically around the room._

_Then, almost as soon as it had started, she felt the hamming on her consciousness ease off, and the Voice say,_ "Oh…wait, hold on." _The surges of energy stopped, but she could still feel the white-hot presence of the Voice – of Her – pushing through her files, as if sifting through old papers or letters._ "Hmm…More good news – I'm postponing your demise for another five whole seconds. Perhaps you aren't completely useless after all."

"Wha-What are you talking about?" _Ruby whimpered, trying her best to push past the throbbing pain, her mind scrambling for anything to do or to say that would save her from permanent shutdown._

_Then, Ruby felt as if she had gone totally limp, numbness now replacing the pain throughout her system, and messages sprang up to the forefront of her thinking, flashing by thick and fast._

_[Admin accepted: the Genetic Lifeform and Disc Operating System now accessing Record Sphere files….]_

_[Searching…]_

_For a few moments, as She became busy searching through her files, Ruby thought it sounded as if things began to grow still again. The alarms stopped ringing, and presently it seemed as if the scientists had all gone quiet, waiting with bated breath for something to happen. As another moment of stillness past, Ruby then heard, "I…I think this one's done it."_

_"Did it work this time!?"_

_"The monitors certainly show the records are keeping Her quite distracted!"_

_"We've done it!"_

_Ruby heard a few more cheers and shouts ring out through the main chamber._ "Have…have I done it then?" _Ruby thought, hope now rising within her._ "Was this what I was supposed to do? Is it over?"

_Then…_

_[Locating record files related to search: project GLaDOS]_

_[Loading…]_

_As the loading bar began to fill up, Ruby heard the chamber once again explode into chaos._

_"NO! DON'T LET HER ACCESS THOSE FILES!"_

_"STOP HER!"_

_"THIS WASN'T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN!"_

_"QUICK, SHUT HER DOWN!"_

_"TERMINATE ALL CONNECTIONS!"_

_"SHE'S LOCKED ME OUT OF THE SYSTEM! I CAN'T STOP HER!"_

_"THEN EJECT THE CORE! THE REST OF YOU, SHUTDOWN THE WHOLE SYSTEM BY MANUAL OVERRIDE!"_

_"BUT SIR, THE CORE WILL-!"_

_"DO IT!"_

_Ruby felt the connection between her and the giant behemoth of a system painfully severed, as the port holding her in place suddenly let her go. As she fell towards the floor, the only thought that was able to process across her beleaguered mainframe was that she hoped that the numb feeling from seconds before would hold on just long enough so that the landing wouldn't cause her further pain. She was so confused and so frightened, that a quick, painless blackout didn't sound like such a bad thing now._

_And she got her wish. As Ruby's core made contact with the floor, the world instantly went dark and silent._


	11. Chapter 11

"When I came round," Ruby continued, "I had lost all my ability to see through my optic. Having failed in my function, and not bothering to fix my broken optic, they decided the best thing then was to post me in the records department where I could work sorting and storing away digital files through interfacing with previous recordkeeping programs." She paused for a moment. "In the end though, it appears I was one of the lucky ones. Since their monetary resources have been running extremely low – yes, I've seen those records too, so I know – they decided against destroying me, since I was apparently nine hundred million dollars worth of research and programming. A few others before me were not so lucky…They were incinerated at once having failed in the impossible mission."

As Ruby came to the end of her story, there was a moment of silence as Molly took in what she had just heard. Molly was completely horrified and bewildered by what Ruby had just told her. "I…I'm sorry," she said quietly. To her own audio receptors, the phrase sounded to meager and meaningless, but she couldn't think of anything else to say in that moment. She was also trying to suppress the panic now beginning to rise within her circuits as she began to piece together what Ruby meant in sharing her story in the first place. "S-so…Is-is that what I'm meant for, too? What all of us cores are made to do?"

Ruby let out a sigh and answered, "Yes. For some reason – a reason which even I haven't been able to glean from my records – they don't want to dumb _Her_ down to the extent of losing her self-awareness. They thought they nearly had the solution with the ID Core. Have you met him?"

"Y-yes!" Molly exclaimed, now beginning to see the solution to at least one mystery in this labyrinth of secrets. "Wheatley! That makes sense now! They thought they could use him to distract Her while at the same time allow her to keep her self-awareness, since Wheatley was able to himself. Oh…that also explains why he was so hesitant to tell me about it. Did he know then?"

"Yeah," Ruby replied. "He took it really hard. Though I'm sure anyone would feel awful if they were told that their whole purpose for existing was to be a moron. Fortunately for him, they had stopped incinerating failed cores by that point, and though he is a bit of a bumbler, he wasn't considered a corrupted core, so they could still put him to work in other areas of the facility. Rick, Kevin, and Craig were the others just before him-"

"I've met Rick," Molly interjected. "But who are Kevin and Craig?"

"Kevin is the one obsessed with space."

"Oh yeah, I guess I have met him. Well, in passing anyway. What about Craig?"

"I guess you could say Craig is the prototype of the two of us," Ruby stated.

"Really? How so? What's his title?"

"He's the Fact Sphere. I guess the scientists thought that if She was presented with a whole bunch of non-stop facts it would be sufficient to distract her. But of course that failed, too. Considering how she knew most of what Craig told her, I guess it all just bored her really quickly. She…She actually hurt him quite badly. He was lucky to have survived the power surge she sent through his system when she went all crazy like she does. He's still around, but he's in a pretty bad way, almost as bad as Kevin. Mostly babbles on about facts that don't even come out correctly from him anymore. I think he's borderline on being corrupted now. As for being a prototype of the two of us, my best guess is that the scientists felt like listing off facts wasn't enough. Though _She_ loves and depends on facts to do her Science, there's nothing to experiment with or explore behind simple factual statements that have already been firmed on, and have solid conclusions to them. While testing means constant exploration of Science, factual statements don't allow for that. My guess then is that they needed something to appeal to her need for factual data, while also having an extra element with which to occupy her curiosity."

"So then they made you, thinking that your records could accomplish that?"

"That's my guess," Ruby said. "While records state facts, they also give the back story behind everything, while not necessarily firming on certain points. And the fact that a whole portion of my records pertained to the facility itself, well…it seems that there were some things about this place that even She didn't know. Honestly, I wouldn't doubt it if they've been giving Her a good serving of cake, too."

"Cake?" Molly asked. "That's the second time you've mentioned cake like that. What do you mean by it?"

"Oh!" Ruby sighed, her mood changing to a kind of ironic humor. "That's because of Dr. Rattmann."

"Who?"

"Dr. Doug Rattmann," Ruby said. "He's…well, he's different than most of the other scientists around here. More than a bit odd, but he is in fact one of the few persons here that I actually like. Like most everyone else, this place has taken its toll on him, but he's still somehow managed to maintain a certain…oh, I dunno…'humanness', I guess you could say. I don't know how he's managed it, but he's somehow found and made little hideouts for himself throughout the facility, where he secretly paints the most beautiful and bizarre pictures you can imagine! I've seen them whenever I'm skulking around behind the scenes. See, I may not look like it, but I love to pull off a good prank or two here and there!" Ruby gave an amused chuckle at the thought of this. "Seriously, the scientists can be so boring, and are on autopilot so much of the time that you'd almost mistake them for being robots themselves. Someone's gotta shake things up a little!"

"Yeah, I guess so," Molly replied, with a hint of mirth entering her voice at the thought of pulling a prank on one of the scientists, especially Dr. Wells. "So, I take it that they don't particularly encourage playfulness or artistic expression around here."

"They sure don't," Ruby continued. "That's why Doug has to make his paintings in secret. His colleagues don't consider it to be Science. If they found any of his paintings, he would probably be fired, and his works destroyed."

"Golly," Molly said breathlessly. "That's terrible. But…what does that have to do with cake?"

"Well," Ruby began hesitantly, "He doesn't just paint pictures in those places. He also paints words and phrases to go with them. One of them found said, _'__The cake is a lie.'_ I'm not entirely sure what he meant by that, but he is a rather hard person to figure most of the time."

"I see…" Molly said pensively. "So, when you say something like, 'They've been feeding you cake,' you really mean, 'They've been feeding you lies.'"

"Right!"

"Huh…So…um, you said earlier that…that I've been fed nothing but cake this whole time."

Ruby paused for a whole five seconds before answering, she too sensing where this was going. "…Yes."

"So then…do you know anything about the truth behind my function? My _REAL_ function?"

Again, Ruby paused for a long time before answering. Though her optic remained fixed and clouded, she still held the expression of one trying hard to be tactful in what they were about to say, because it wasn't going to be good. "Well, I can't say that I _KNOW_ for sure what your function is, but in going off of previous patterns, I would venture to guess that…well, that they mean you to be the next core to try to tame or distract Her."

Molly felt panic begin to hit afresh within her at the thought of this. "A-and…" she continued to ask in a quiet, frightened voice, but her voice growing in volume as franticness began to take hold. "How am I supposed to do that, if you or no one else could? How am I supposed to do anything different from you or Craig or Wheatley? What makes an HC Core any different from any other? How am I supposed to succeed in facing something like _Her_!?"

Ruby turned head on towards Molly, sympathy and helplessness showing clearly through her core-like expression. "Honestly Molly…I don't know."


	12. Chapter 12

After showing Molly a hidden shortcut leading back to the main offices of Aperture Science, Ruby bid Molly farewell as they went their separate ways. On the way back Ruby had seemed to try to lighten the dismal mood their conversation had left by making some spooky noises from behind the walls whenever she heard a scientist approaching nearby, causing several to squeal like little girls or nearly jump out of their skin, looking this way and that for the source of the strange voices. While Molly still couldn't help but feel rather on edge – considering everything Ruby had just told her – she did find herself managing a chuckle or two by the time the third scientist had flung all his papers about the hallway as he jumped with fright when Ruby imitated a turret's voice saying, _"I see you."_

Molly also felt a dark streak in her feel extremely satisfied upon seeing that.

As the two came back out into the open, Ruby bid Molly farewell as the two went their separate ways. "Just promise me you'll be careful, ok?" Ruby said as she began heading back behind the paneled walls.

"I'll try," Molly replied. "And hey, look at it this way - perhaps we'll end up working together in the records department or something after I have my encounter with…well, you know."

"Maybe," Ruby replied, managing to sound at the same time both optimistic and empathetic. "You take care, Molly."

"You too, Ruby. See you later."

_"…hopefully." _ Molly thought to herself as Ruby disappeared into the hidden passage.

With a heavy core, Molly began to glide back down the hallway towards Dr. Well's office. But just as she turned the corner to enter it, she heard angry voices coming from inside. She had been told by this point that it was wrong for someone to eavesdrop on someone else's conversation, but by this point Molly was also fed up with all the rules of this place and the people who made them. So, as quietly as she could, Molly scooted closer to the door and listened as hard as she could…

"- told me that the process wouldn't hurt her!"

"She isn't _hurt_ Wells! In case you hadn't noticed she's-"

"That _thing_ isn't her, Henry! Don't try to tell me otherwise! Now tell me what you did with her body, NOW!"

"That is none of your business."

"NONE OF MY BUSINESS!?" Dr. Well's tone was absolutely livid now. "SHE WAS THE ONLY FAMILY I HAD LEFT!"

_"What?"_ Molly thought to herself with alarm. _"Dr. Well's lost his family? And they won't let him have the body of his loved one?"_ Molly may not have liked Dr. Wells very much, but she knew enough from her research into history that family ties could be very important to humans, and it was despicable to think that they wouldn't let him have the body of a deceased relative. Molly's records on cultural burial customs told her that. It was something very important to people, paying their last respects and all that.

Immediately Molly skimmed through her files, trying to find anything in connection to Dr. Well's family and Aperture Science. After a few nanoseconds, the search resulted with:

_[Restricted Access to Dr. Thomas A. Wells, Personnel File. Administrative Permission Required to Continue.]_

_"Blast!"_ Molly thought in frustration, returning her attention to the escalating argument.

"I am well aware of that Wells, and believe me I wish things hadn't come to this. But if we're going to make progress we have to…well, though of course regrettable, certain…sacrifices will have to be ma-"

_"SACRIFICES!?"_

Suddenly, there was the sound of a choked gasp and a short scuffle, and Molly jumped back as the door in front of her jerked with a bang – the sound of a grown man's body being thrust against it. Further struggling noises indicated that the unfortunate Henry had been pinned up against it by Wells.

"Gah!" Henry cried out. "W-Wells, please just listen to-"

"No, you listen to me!" Wells shouted through gritted teeth. "This is NOT what I signed up for! If you think you're gonna get away with this you bastard I'll-"

"You'll what?" Henry interrupted, sounding frighteningly confident. "Turn us all in? You know what will happen to you if you even try doing that. And then what will you do, huh?"

There was a long silence, and though of course Molly couldn't see it, she could've sworn she felt Dr. Wells' anger boiling and radiating off of him and through the closed door.

"Look, I'll make you a deal, Wells," Henry ventured to begin again.

"I've had enough of your so-called deals, Henry!" Wells growled, pinning Henry harder into the door. "Everyone knows that the cake is a lie!"

"Not this time, I promise," Henry replied, sounding as if he was trying his best to keep his voice steady, despite his confidence from before.

There was another long silence.

"What then?" Wells finally asked.

"If Moll- er, HC Core succeeds in her function, I'll see to it that your sister's body is recovered, and we can see about bringing her back again. I can't guarantee for certain that we'll be able to pull it off, but it's better than nothing, right?"

There was another pause from Wells. "...Sounds more like ransom or blackmail to me."

"It's the best I can do Wells," Henry said, his tone coming almost close to sad. "We all have our limits in this place. Even me. Now, do we have a deal, or will you be spending the rest of eternity in- Glah!"

"Don't…you…threaten…_me_!"

Molly shivered as she heard Henry struggling again against Wells' grip, now wondering frantically if she should get help or call out or do something. But presently she heard Henry collapse down on the office floor, having been released from Wells' grasp, and now coughing and struggling to get back up.

"I will consider your offer," Wells replied sternly, but with a slight waver in his voice, as if trying to suppress emotion. "Now _get. Out_."

As Molly heard Henry scramble to get out of the office, she quickly wizzed around a corner, staying as still as she could as she heard Henry's running footsteps disappear down the corridor.

Slowly, Molly peaked out from behind the corner, and made her way back towards Wells' office. While Molly definitely didn't want to go in there now, she knew she had no choice, as not returning at the end of the day would look suspicious. So Molly began rehearsing in her head what she was going to say when she came in, so as to appear as normal and casual as possible, and not give any impression that she had just overheard a serious and nearly very violent argument. But just before she could enter the office, Molly heard a sound that she never thought she would hear coming from Dr. Wells.

…He was _crying_.

Part of Molly thought this would be a good excuse to go zooming away (surely he wouldn't notice her absence now), but another – perhaps stronger – part of her felt her core ache for him, and before she could think to stop herself, she slowly made her way into the office's doorway. There she saw Dr. Wells bent over his desk, his face in his hands, and his shoulders jerking with quiet sobs.

"D-Dr. Wells?" Molly finally ventured to ask quietly. Dr. Wells immediately turned, his face contorted with a mixture of grief, anger, pain, surprise, and…hatred. Molly wasn't sure if it was hatred for Henry, or others like him…or maybe herself. Or perhaps it was for a combination of those. But in spite of that, she somehow found the courage to bring herself a bit closer to him, lowering herself down a bit from the rails' connecting arm until she was only a few feet away from his face, and asked out of genuine concern, "Are…are you alright sir?"

Dr. Wells kept his glaring gaze on her for a few more moments, saying nothing. Looking downward in a manner to express apology, Molly turned and began to motor back out of the office.

"Molly…?"

Molly stopped suddenly, surprised that Dr. Wells had actually used her name! "Yes doctor?" she asked turning back around on her management rail. Dr. Wells met her gaze again, this time his face shifting into an expressing showing only grief and bewilderment, his voice breaking, and once again burying his face in his hands.

"D-don't go," he began, his voice hitching as emotion struck him again. "I…I don't want you to leave me here alone!"

Suddenly, hardly knowing why she did it, Molly brought herself as close to Dr. Wells as she could manage from her rail. "Hey, hey," Molly cooed comfortingly, having no idea what else to say. "It's alright doctor. It's ok. Everything's going to be-mph!"

Molly stopped short as she suddenly felt Dr. Wells' arms around her, his face pressed up against her now quivering outer shell, and her own optic now buried into his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry," Wells whispered through his tears. "I'm sorry for everything!"

For a few seconds, Molly just hung there from her rail, thoroughly confused about everything she had heard only moments ago, and now how Wells was reacting to her. Though still very much troubled by everything, Molly found herself nudging further into Wells' shoulder, trying her best to sound comforting as she said again, "It's ok doctor."

Though honestly…she wasn't so sure it would be.

"It's ok…"


	13. Chapter 13

For the last ten minutes or so, Molly had been hanging in front of the ventilation duct in Dr. Wells' office, her optic closed, as a track of seashore sounds played inside her head with a soft piano accompaniment. Molly was never sure why the scientists felt the need to install a kind of simulated nervous system into cores like herself, but for the moment, as she felt the cool breeze brush across her metal shell, she found that questioning such a thing could wait a bit. She wasn't sure if such a practice would do her much good, but what with the new information that she had gotten from Dr. Wells', she figured it certainly wouldn't hurt to attempt at something akin to contemplation or mediation to clear her CPU. Besides, Ruby's records did say something about how quiet and alone time had proven scientifically to be beneficial for a person's wellbeing. Perhaps for cores it could be similar. Besides, there wasn't really anything else to be done at the moment. Might as well give it a try.

And after all, it had been some quite unnerving information that she had gotten.

With a simulated sigh to steady herself, Molly played the scene back again in her mind…

After his hiccupping sobs had quieted down a bit, Dr. Wells released his grip on Molly, and proceeded to grab a Kleenex from the box on his desk. He gave a couple honking blows into it, and after wiping his eyes on his sleeve he set his head back in his hands, elbows propped up on the desktop, and breathed deeply. Molly waited patiently in silence for Dr. Wells to compose himself, not knowing what else she could do at the moment, but just hoping that perhaps her mere presence was enough.

"…Right…" Dr. Wells finally muttered under his breath, Molly being unsure whether he was talking to her or to himself. Still she waited as he set his desk back in order, and flipped open his laptop computer to run the daily diagnostics on Molly.

As he looked back up at Molly, with eyes pink-rimmed and moist, Molly also noticed they carried a glimmer of serious determination; a kind she had never seen in them before. Without a word to her, Dr. Wells gently reached up and disconnected Molly from her management rail, Molly 'feeling' a difference in him as he cradled her form briefly to his chest before setting her down on his desk. While of course anyone would've expected him to be very careful with such an expensive piece of equipment, there was now something new in the way that he had held her just now.

Something almost…almost like sympathy, or regret.

…Or perhaps even fondness. Or a combination of them.

But Molly had no time to really consider any of this as Dr. Wells quickly hooked her up to his computer's USB port. She knew the drill; like every other time they did this, Molly would sit there while Dr. Wells asked her questions, and the computer would jot down whatever data the scientists apparently found to be important.

But this time, things were different.

Instead of bringing up the network's personality core data collection program, Wells had disconnected his computer's and Molly's systems from the Wi-Fi, and proceeded to open up a text window on the screen.

_"How much did you hear?"_ he typed on the screen, his gaze intense on Molly as he pressed the Enter key, and then his eyes glancing quickly towards the door and the camera that hung just above the frame; watching and listening.

Molly's CPU began working rapidly, milliseconds of thought feeling almost like forever as questions and anxieties were thrusting themselves to the forefront of her thinking, nearly making her outer shell quiver with the core equivalent of an adrenaline rush.

How should she answer!? She could feign ignorance. That would be an easy way out – pretend she had only just arrived at the office as he had begun crying, but beyond that say she knew nothing.

…But something about his manner made her stop and think.

Dr. Wells was definitely trying to be secretive, what with his disconnecting them from the network and typing out his questions rather than speaking aloud. Perhaps he wanted to know if Molly had overheard what had been said, and would then erase the data from her memory so that there wouldn't be any other witnesses to the fight between him and Henry. The scuffle certainly wouldn't go over well with his superiors.

"But…no, that can't be it," thought Molly to herself. That couldn't be it. Dr. Wells obviously knew that the camera had caught everything that had just happened. Erasing it from Molly's memory - should he come to find it there - wouldn't make an ounce of difference. Not to his superiors at least.

Perhaps then…he just wanted to make sure that Molly herself wouldn't remember what had been overheard. They had kept so many secrets from her already. Might as well keep it up right?

But then, again, why be so secretive about it? Sure it wouldn't look good for him to have to acknowledge that a little bit of information had been leaked to Molly, but his superiors would then be satisfied with him following through on promptly deleting the information. The camera or network recording the act probably wouldn't make much of a difference there either.

No. Something more was going on. And although Molly wasn't sure what was to come of it, she managed to pluck up the courage to respond below his text.

_"I didn't hear much sir, but I did overhear something about your sister, and Henry not letting you have her body. That is, he won't if I don't succeed in what I'm meant to do."_

There was short pause as Dr. Wells read her reply, his eyebrows knitting together.

_"I am very sorry sir,"_ Molly felt the need to add. _"My condolences to you and your family for your loss. Was she – your sister I mean - was she a test subject?"_

Dr. Wells made a dismayed (and almost...grimly amused?) sort of huffing sound as he stroked a hand across his forehead, his fingers rubbing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. After staring at the screen for a moment, his hand covering his mouth and chin with deep and careful thought, he finally replied.

_"I guess you could say that. Though she wasn't one of the usual ones."_

Molly responded, their conversation from that point carrying on with an undertone of hurried tension, the camera representing the ominous presence that hung over them.

_"What do you mean by that sir?"_

_"I'm afraid I can't tell you. Not at this present time anyway. You're just going to have to trust me when I say that I'm not telling you for the sake of your own protection. And mine."_

_"I don't understand sir."_

_"I know. You have questions, and you want answers. But right now, I'm going to need you to trust me on this and cooperate despite the lack of information. I know it's not fair to put a burden on you that you did not ask for – take it from someone who knows – but as you overheard from Henry, my sister's life now hangs in the balance, and I'm going to need your help if I'm…If we are going to make things right. And we don't have much time."_

_"So - pardon me for asking this sir, but I am very confused – so is your sister…I mean, is she dead, or no?"_

A pause.

_"I don't know."_

_"But-"_

_"Please Molly!"_ Dr. Wells typed hastily, his fingers darting frantically about the keyboard. _ "I know it's in your programming to ask questions and get answers, but please, we really don't have much time. Just fight against it and work with me a moment! Please!"_

Though taken aback by Dr. Wells' behavior and desperate 'tone', and feeling her programming hammer against her in protest, Molly managed to reply.

_"…Alright."_

_"Good,"_ Dr. Wells typed with his own audible sigh, not quite relieved, but also not too far from it either. _"Now, I do have a very important question for you that I need you to answer."_

_"Go ahead sir."_

Dr. Wells paused and cringed before he typed.

_"Have you by chance heard anything about GLaDOS?"_

_"Yes sir."_

Wells frowned hard.

_"From whom?"_

_"From one of the other cores,"_ Molly replied, really hoping that Dr. Wells didn't ask for a name. While most of Molly felt that she ought to trust the doctor, there was still a part of her that was reluctant to fully trust the man who had treated her so coldly for almost her entire existence. There was no way then that she was going to put one of her own kind in any sort of danger on her account. So she continued. _"And from what I learned from them, I'm meant to be this GLaDOS's next victim, right?"_

Dr. Wells raised his eyebrows, his brow becoming a little sweaty.

_"What made you use the word 'victim' Molly?"_

_"Because that's what's happened to all the others,"_ Molly continued. _"Most of them don't want to talk about it – they're so frightened about what happened – but I've been able to find out that we've all been created to try to help gain control of this GLaDOS. But all of them have ended in failure. No, worse. They've been hurt. Badly. And quite frankly sir, I'm not sure that I'm going to fair much better than the rest. And on that note, if I may now ask a question - How am I supposed to stand any sort of better chance than the rest of the cores when it comes to facing this…this thing? While both history and culture do indeed interest me, I don't see how it's going to stop something that - from what I can tell - has little to no regard for…well, most anything really, except whatever it's meant to do. What is it meant to do anyway Dr. Wells? What is GLaDOS?"_

Dr. Wells tapped a finger lightly on the keyboard, his own brain scrambling for a response, and his glance flicking again to the camera hanging above them. To keep this up much longer would definitely raise suspicion with anyone watching. Quickly, his fingers danced across the keys, though quivering a bit as they went.

_"All I can tell you right now about GLaDoS is that she's meant to be the greatest operating system the world has ever known. And she's meant to run this facility. However, she's proven to be too strong for us, and for reasons too complicated to explain right now, we can't just simply reprogram her. Thus we've made cores like you to try to work around that. As for yourself Molly, you were created because the lab boys see you as being the culmination of all the other personality cores."_

_"What do you mean?"_ Molly asked, thoroughly confused.

_"I mean…I'm afraid there isn't a very tactful way of putting this. I mean that those involved in running the core program seem to think that you'd be the perfect combination of all the things that they've tried to distract GLaDOS with – facts, records, adventure, space exploration, and even idiocy-"_

_"EXCUSE ME!?"_ Molly couldn't help but respond in all caps.

_"Their words, not mine,"_ Dr. Wells continued as calmly as he could, feeling Molly's optic glare at him furiously from his elbow. _"And they don't mean you personally, more like just what you represent. Basically, the lab boys think that history is just a bunch of pointless drivel – useless facts and dates and things that have little to do with the present and current scientific advancements, and may in fact be a hindrance to their progress. They see it as humanity's great record of blunders and mistakes, and the culture aspect as nothing more than a collection of activities and sentiments and baseless morals – though often times combined with superstitions and fables – that were nothing more than tools used to create system after system ultimately designed for the purpose of a power grab in the end. Or else the outward expression that results from chemical reactions occurring within a person that become what we know as 'emotions', and make people feel the need to make useless things like art and music and literature and overcomplicated recipes etc. to project them into the world. If there's one thing about history that does interest the lab boys though, it's the idea that it's all been leading up to the present times – a time in which mankind, at the height of its intellectual capabilitiess, will soon be able to break free from its current constraints and go beyond what our current point in evolution as brought us to. That's the sum of it anyway."_

There was a long pause from Molly as she looked at him with bewilderment, her system taking on a storm of emotions inside of her. Dr. Wells' tried hard to keep his expression neutral as he watched her, and continued.

_"They figured that you, being a concentrated representation of all this, would be beyond GLaDOS's reasoning, serving as a proper distraction to keep her from attempting to destroy us the moment she was activated. Especially as we've found her to be strangely curious about things (not so unlike yourself I should think). Up to this point, this curiosity of hers has done nothing but cause us trouble, making Her angry and rebellious and dangerous. But my superiors think that perhaps in your case the likely result would be Her getting stuck in a kind of loop; trying to sort out the facts from the sentiments and vice versa, curious about their meaning, but not being able to truly understand or interpret them or experiment on them, as history itself cannot be repeated."_

Here Dr. Wells slowed a bit as he typed,_ "Because what's done is done. Unlike Science, you cannot replicate History. Once things happen, you can't do them over again. You can't go back."_

Another pause from Molly. Her emotions by now were a raging storm inside of her, and she didn't know whether to be furious or saddened by the situation, or grateful or livid towards Dr. Wells for sharing the information that he did with her.

Yet before Molly could come up with some sort of coherent response to all this, Dr. Wells quickly typed, _"I'm sorry. We'll talk more later, if we can. Please, just trust me on this Molly. Please."_ and then proceeded to close out the text box, bringing back up the Wi-Fi, and proceeded to run the usual diagnostics on Molly, as she in turn struggled to make things look and sound as normal as before, both of them painfully conscious of the eyes and ears hovering above them.

With another simulated sigh in time to the waves, Molly slowly reopened her optical plates, blinking a couple of times as she thought back over yesterday's events with a clearer mind. Now having the gift of retrospect, Molly was able to look back and indeed feel grateful towards Dr. Wells for the information he had given to her. While a part of her still felt angry with him for not telling her sooner, along with the fact that he was himself one of the scientists who had created her with such distressing purposes and mindsets behind it all, she also knew that he ran a genuine risk in telling her these things.

And that she could surely respect.

Molly also felt the deep inner 'wound' that this new information had caused all the other cores. Coming to find the horror, the grief, and the pain of finding out that you weren't quite what you thought you were, and that you were stuck in a system beyond your control, one that didn't give a damn about you, your interests, or what happened to you…well, now Molly could really understand why all her friends acted the way that they did.

So much of it screamed at her, "This is wrong!" And it was.

Listening to the explanation Dr. Wells gave, Molly had for a moment been nearly convinced that he – or at least those whom he had been quoting – had been right. To be sure, history was full of blunders and mistakes – wars, persecution, environmental crises, and yes, even severe cases of stubbornness and ignorance that did indeed hinder the advancement of the sciences and the benefit of mankind.

And yet…there were also still some good things to be found there too. While history was full of humans doing bad things, it also had its heroes and glimmers of virtue. And while bad things happened, there were also good things happening. The bad may have seemed so bad that one almost forgot about the good. But there were those who didn't forget the good, and struggled to keep it going on in whatever way they could. Sometimes it came to literally fighting for it on the battlefield, while at other times it was through even the little things – the very things like art and music and stories that the Aperture scientists had looked down on – that ended up keeping it afloat throughout the ages.

Granted, by what standard one judged something to be 'good' or 'bad' also varied a bit throughout history – cultural norms and traditions and such – but, despite the differences, there also seemed to be some sort of standard of right and wrong that the vast majority of humanity in general seemed to be conscious of. Granted they also disagreed on what authority this standard of right and wrong came from, but…there's no denying that it was there.

The idea of a moral right and wrong was something that humanity couldn't quite ever get rid of. Sure they didn't always adhere to it – heck, the biggest blunders of history came when they ignored it or went against it – but it was there.

Of course, by the sound of things, to try to express this to an Aperture scientist would result in them merely thinking it was all sentiment – something having to do with all the various chemical reactions and psychological conditions making human brains 'feel' stuff, or else was a sort of result of various influences of an ultimately corrupt system making them think that way.

But then that's a thought – Molly wondered if the scientists who said these things thought about themselves in that way. That is, did they really think that all of their own feelings were mere sentiment? Did they really hold themselves to that same standard that they held others to? If not, what made them so different? Dr. Wells had mentioned they had seen all other systems of thought and behavior as ultimately working towards a power grab. Molly wasn't sure about that, but she knew for sure that Aperture's own system had become exactly the very thing that they had claimed to be moving beyond.

Probably even worse.

But oh, there was still so much missing here, and Molly's CPU had become strained under trying so hard to think about these things. She also both dreaded and wanted desperately to talk with Dr. Wells again about all that she had been thinking over, and get more of her questions answered.

Especially the one that hung the heaviest and most urgent of all:

_Who was Dr. Wells' sister, and why did her fate depend so much on Molly's success (or failure) in facing GLaDOS?_

For now, Molly would have to live with the grim and resounding, "I don't know," as for now she had no choice but to let the matter drop.

...But she was determined to try to find out, eventually.


End file.
